I am excited and a bit sad. The oldest will be in 3rd Grade – but the baby – well, has grown up. She put on her size 4 jumper and pressed peter-pan collared shirt and headed off to Kindergarten. Bittersweet to say the least.

The good part is the teacher is the bomb. I don’t know too many people that would look forward to spending eight straight hours with 20 five- & six-year-olds, but she does. One of her well-known character traits is to sing. She sings in the morning, she sings before lunch, she sings just about anytime the mood  hits her. Funny enough, now my 5-year old is beginning to do it. Yesterday in the car – we were driving home from school and I hear this sweet, soft voice coming from the back seat. I can’t remember exactly what she was singing about (I think it might have been about bunnies – but it is really irrelevant..)  Teachers (good ones) can have such an influence….

My sister-in-law is also a teacher. A great one. I have never seen her teach, but I hear her stories and see all the effort and work she puts into it, and I know there are some lucky kids out there benefiting. I only hope she realizes how good she is.

Here’s to all the great teachers out there.

I am blessed with two beauties. The oldest is eight, going on eighteen, and the youngest reminds me what it is like to still be a child. However, I’m still amazed – to this day- that two children from the same gene pool can be so completely different. I recently read “The Birth Order” by Dr. Kevin Leman and honestly, thought he wrote the book just for me. Our oldest daughter is the epitome of the “Oldest Child”. Smart, Adult-like, and a by-the-book kind of girl. In her mind, rules are NOT made to be broken – they are to be followed, to a T. Then the youngest came along and the universe turned upside down. The youngest is, let’s say, easy-going. The “I want to wear pajamas in the car to the donut shop” kind of gal. Of course, this is not right in the eyes of the eight-year old. Pajamas are to be worn to bed, not to the donut shop.

Of course, I bear a great deal of responsibility for this character trait the oldest exhibits. I, too, am an oldest. And if that wasn’t bad enough, so is her father. I am trying to be more flexible, hoping it might rub off on her. Hope is the key word there…